


Aureate August Oneshots

by wasted_potential_007



Series: BlackHill Oneshots & Ficlets [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Aureate August 2018, F/F, Fluff, I'll try to do daily updates, coffeeshop!au, it's gonna be a long month y'all, these are all hot messes of oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 10:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted_potential_007/pseuds/wasted_potential_007
Summary: My submissions to Aureate August 2018. Cross-posted on Tumblr.Translation into 中文 here: http://33syq.lofter.com/post/1e249ee5_ef48206d (thank you to @韦紫宜 for doing this!)





	1. Collision

**Author's Note:**

> "Collision- an instance of one moving object or person striking violently against another."
> 
> A CoffeeShop!AU

**Prompt:** Collision

 **Word Count:** 562

 **Rating:** T+

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

 

It’s Friday, there’s a fuck ton of people getting off work, mobbing the city streets, acting as if their lives were more important than anyone could ever imagine. The swarming streams of people aren’t doing Maria’s feet any favors either, as she ignores the pain caused by the torture device only a devil could’ve come up with: heels.

She’s carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, her briefcase full of legal documents in another, her backpack slung over a shoulder as she trots the sidewalk.

And then suddenly, some jackass collides with her, spilling her coffee all over her white blouse and suit jacket, forcing her to drop her briefcase on the ground. The man doesn’t even turn around and say sorry.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Maria mutters as she crouches down and picks up her case, grabbing some napkins out of it and attempting to wipe the coffee off her shirt.

(It’s useless, she knows, but she doesn’t stop trying.)

Maria eyes a coffee shop across the street that could offer her a reprieve; she carries a spare set of clothing on her at all times and she’s in desperate need of a replacement of the coffee that’s now splattered over her blouse.

When she walks in, she hears a small bell _ding,_ but other than that the shop seems to be pretty empty, save for the woman working at the cash register and a few patrons working on their laptops.

“Hi, could I help you?” The woman asks as Maria steps up to the cash register and her voice is scratchy but smooth, low and silky. Her eyes are a piercing green, staring into her blue.

Maria doesn’t even blink as she keeps eye contact (she’s a lawyer, after all, it’s her job to stare people down), reciting her order, “A large coffee with one shot of caramel syrup, please.”

“Okay. And your name?” The woman asks, grabbing a cup and a sharpie.

“Maria.”

She pays and the woman, _Natasha_ (by her nametag) steps back, finally pulling her eyes away as she sets on making Maria’s order. “Caramel syrup, huh?” Natasha asks. “And a large? That bad of a day?”

“It’s a Friday, I still have to go in to work tomorrow, and there’s coffee staining my blouse if you couldn’t tell already,” Maria deadpans, slightly smirking at Natasha as she leans into the counter. The woman’s eyes meet hers again and Maria’s suddenly reminded of a predator staring down prey by the way Natasha’s looking at her.

It’s quiet for a moment as they stare at each other, Maria never looking away.

Then, Maria’s reminded of the coffee stains on her shirt and she pulls away with a slight cough, trying to ignore the green eyes piercing her soul.

“I’m going to change,” Maria mutters, stepping back from the counter and walking over to the bathroom.

—-

When she comes back out in a fresh blouse and jacket, there’s a large coffee on the countertop and Natasha’s nowhere in sight. Maria picks up the cup, noticing the inscription on the cardboard sleeve:

 ~~_Maria_ ~~ _Blue Eyes_

_Call me._

Natasha’s number is written on the other side of the sleeve and Maria smirks as she walks out of the shop, heading back to her apartment.

Maybe the collision wasn’t such a bad thing after all.


	2. Heartworm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Heartworm - n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire."
> 
> (using aureateaugust's definition, since when i searched up heartworm i just got a literal worm that kills dogs.
> 
> which, what?)

**Prompt:** Heartworm

**Word Count:** 653

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Self Harm, Death

* * *

 

 

_ “Don’t you dare run, Natasha.” _

_ Maria’s hand is gripping her upper arm but Natasha wrestles away because it’s in her nature to run, to flee after causing destruction. There’s just a whirlwind of emotion in her head, clouding her vision so that she can only see Maria’s face, mouth, nose, eyes. _

_ “If you run, it’s over. We’re over.” Maria’s tone is serious and her blue eyes pierce into Natasha’s as Maria grips her wrist, her fingernails digging into Natasha’s skin. _

_ (It’s no use. They both know she’s going to run anyway.) _

_ “Nat!” Maria calls out from behind her but it’s too late, Natasha’s already gone, red hair ablaze as she races out the door, slamming it with a bang. _

_ She runs away, away from the ruins she’s made, the heart she’s destroyed, the only good she’s ever had. _

The scene replays over and over again in her head, the sounds of her feet pounding the ground, her heart thumping in her chest as she dashes down the street and away from those piercing blue eyes.

(Here’s a secret: it’s the eyes that destroy her the most.)

But she can’t get Maria’s face out of her mind because it’s those eyes that wormed their way into her heart, planting themselves there and somehow making her  _ feel.  _ And she’s running away because of those feelings, because she’s scared of what those eyes brought out from inside her, emotions that she’s never dealt with before.

“Fuck!” 

“Goddammit!” Natasha screams into her empty apartment, her voice raw, as if yelling could undo the damage she has caused.

She throws an empty vodka bottle against the wall, hearing it shatter against the plaster before crumbling to the ground and it’s almost representative of what she feels right now; pain, sorrow, self-loathing, anger.

And Natasha’s out of control as she throws bottle after bottle with the image of those eyes in her head, the striking blue piercing into her soul and she hears the sounds of glass shattering.

But she’s the one who destroyed what they had; what could’ve been something reliable, something stable, concrete.

_ Maria. _

_ Maria Maria Maria. _

Natasha can’t stop saying Maria’s name in her head and it’s repeating like a mantra; over and over and over again.

She sinks to the ground on her knees, scooping up a handful of glass and letting it run through her fingers, welcoming the pain that comes as her skin cuts open. The glass is a beautiful, destructive thing.

(Almost like herself, she thinks.)

She stays there for what could be minutes, hours, days and when she looks back on this day later, she finds that the only thing she can remember are those blue eyes.

—-

It’s been a couple of years since she has run away from those blue eyes and Natasha tells herself that she’s recovered from it; that her heart has mended.

Except she can’t ignore the pang in her chest every single goddamn time she sees Assistant Director Hill,  _ Maria _ , around the Helicarrier and it’s ruining her slowly, tearing her apart from the inside.

Clint tells her she’ll get over it but Natasha’s doubtful of any advice the man gives her, so she just shoves the feelings down and hopes they’ll stay there.

—-

She starts something with Bruce in hopes that it’ll help the pangs stop but it only reminds her of what she’s missing; Bruce’s eyes are nothing like the piercing blue.

And then  _ Bruce  _ runs and she’s alone again, left with a shattered heart, although she’s not sure who caused it.

—-

She’s dying on the battlefield like she expects; gunshots in her stomach, thigh, shoulder and she can feel the blood seeping into her suit.

There’s a man looming over her with a gun pointed at her chest and Natasha thinks that it serves no purpose; her heart’s already destroyed anyway.

The last thing she thinks about are those blue eyes.

—-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sorry.  
> also don't be afraid to leave comments! they're always appreciated.
> 
> my tumblr's @spreadyourwings-likeicarusdid, but i've basically cross-posted everything worth posting on here so...   
> (if you want to you can check it out, my ask box is always open!)


	3. Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Monster- n. an imaginary creature that is typically large, ugly, and frightening."
> 
> platonic!BlackHill

**Prompt:** Monsters

**Word Count:** 694

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

  
  


Natasha defects to SHIELD easily enough; she doesn’t kill Clint when he’s sent out to assassinate her, nor does she put up a fight when she’s shoved into a cage disguised as a room. 

She thinks it serves her right because she’s a monster, and it doesn’t matter what reprogramming she lets SHIELD shove down her throat, she’ll always have an ugly part of her that was cultivated to be a killing machine.

\---

“It’s not that complicated,” Natasha says in an interrogation to  _ Maria Hill _ of all people, because for some reason Fury deemed it necessary for them to send in the high ranking authorities. “I’m looking for redemption. Nothing else.”

Hill gives her a slight nod back and Natasha catches the fire in her clear blue eyes. 

There are parts of Hill that are easy to read; her authoritative stance, her high ranking position, the rigidity in every step she takes, the way she carries herself with absolute professionalism, but Natasha finds that she wants to know  _ more,  _ because this woman is an enigma wrapped inside of a combat suit and headset.

Natasha wonders if Hill has monsters inside of her too.

\---

There’s one night where Hill comes back from a mission with the deaths of others on her hands and Natasha finds her sitting in the commons room at 0300, staring out at an empty wall.

The fire’s still in her eyes but it’s a different kind of flame; this time, it’s wild, uncontrolled, filled with grief and sorrow and what could be fear.

Natasha leaves Hill alone as she mentally catalogs how those blue eyes were glazed over and how Hill’s monsters could be different than hers, because while Natasha’s stem from what she  _ did  _ do, Hill’s come from what she didn’t.

\---

It’s a bad day for Natasha as she sits unmoving in her room, staring into empty space as the images of fire and smoke and destruction fill her mind.

The mission earlier hadn’t been a complete failure except there had been an unexpected incident involving a flamethrower and spilled gas on a highway and Natasha remembers the last time she’s played with fire (literally, not metaphorically, since that’s something different): the screams of those left in the smoke, the utter destruction she ran from, the bodies she left behind.

It was the monster inside of her that flicked the lighter onto the hospital; the monster that was a weapon, something to be used, a destroyer of worlds.

She hears her bedroom door crack open and she’s surprised to see Hill standing in the doorway with a little less professionalism than was normal, holding a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I heard about the mission earlier,” Hill says, “may I come in?”

Natasha doesn’t give Hill a witty response like she normally would, instead she just slightly nods and slightly moves to the left, inviting Hill to sit down on her bed.

“People died in the fire,” Natasha says, staring into nothing, “and I didn’t do anything about it.”

Natasha’s not sure whether she’s talking about the mission or the hospital fire, but she really doesn’t care anymore.

Hill doesn’t say anything for a while and they sit in silence, both of them staring at the empty wall across from Natasha’s bed while Natasha slowly sips the coffee Hill, no,  _ Maria,  _ gave her until Maria speaks.

“I still don’t forgive myself for what I did, or more of what I  _ didn’t  _ do.”

The words confirm what Natasha’s suspected all along but she’s too busy reliving her own monsters to think about Maria’s.

“That’s your monster, right?” Natasha asks anyway, meeting Maria’s blue eyes with her green.

“If by monster you mean past, then sure,” Maria replies, still looking out at the wall. “But we all live with our monsters. What we decide to use them for is a different thing.” 

Maria finally meets Natasha’s eyes, and the fire inside them is almost understanding, as if Maria knew what Natasha felt and  _ felt it too _ , “You said you want redemption. I do as well.”

“It’s all because of our monsters.” 

“And who knows? Maybe, one day, we’ll make peace with them.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might continue with this later.


	4. Dysania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dysania- the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.”
> 
> okay i'm nervous about this one because i've never written children before and i think my characterization of maria is completely off BUT we're just rolling with it.

**Prompt:** Dysania

**Word Count:** 795

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** Death

* * *

 

 

_ “Maria,” Natasha says, a sparkle in her green eyes, “let’s do it.” _

_ “Yeah?” Maria responds as Natasha’s hand clutches onto hers, the band on her ring finger shining as they sit on their couch. “Really?” _

_ “Of course,” Natasha smiles and even though they’ve been married for five years, Maria thinks she can’t get enough of that grin; Natasha’s green eyes lit up, red hair shining in the sun, her face brighter than anything Maria’s seen before.  _

_ Maria lets out a squeal as she leans in and catches Natasha’s lips with hers.  _

_ “We’re going to adopt?” Maria asks as she pulls back, her voice excited, happy. _

_ “Yes!” Natasha replies, leaning in to kiss Maria again with a grin, the sun pouring in from the windows and everything’s almost perfect.  _

\---

_ “One more,” Natasha says, packing her bag, “and then I’m done. No more missions.” _

_ “Promise?” Maria asks and Natasha nods, slinging her bag over her shoulder before walking over to the doorway where a little boy is standing. _

_ “‘S mommy gonna go save the world again?” he asks and Natasha opens her arms and picks him up, their four-year-old son letting out a little squeal as he’s hoisted up. _

_ “Yeah,” Natasha responds, staring their son, Nikolas in his clear blue eyes that are almost identical to Maria’s and Natasha swears that if it wasn’t for the fact that he was found in an abandoned building in Sokovia, he could’ve had half of Maria’s genes because the kid was a spitting image of his mom. _

_ “One last time, okay Nicky?” Natasha asks, and the boy gives her a nod before letting out a yawn. Natasha leans in and gives him a kiss on the forehead before giving him to Maria, planting a kiss on Maria’s lips before stepping back, slightly smirking at the “eww” coming from her son. _

_ “I love you guys,” Natasha says at the doorway to their apartment. _

_ “I love you too,” Maria replies, giving her another kiss before Natasha steps back, giving one last look to her family before disappearing out the door. _

\---

It’s one of those days where the memories keep on playing over and over again in Maria’s head and she finds it hard to get out of bed, the empty space next to her a reminder of what’s gone.

Natasha’s last words to her were “I love you,” and she’s grateful for that, but she just wants to feel Natasha’s lips against hers one more time, feel Natasha’s embrace, feel Natasha’s head resting against her chest, feel  _ Natasha. _

Most days it’s not so bad; most days she climbs out of bed, gulps down a cup of coffee before driving down to Stark Industries, always wearing a piece of black clothing, but there are some days like these where she’s just thinking of Natasha.

She tells herself she’ll get out of bed in five minutes, but then ten minutes have passed and she’s still thinking of those green eyes, the red hair and it feels like her heart is being ripped out of her chest once again.

It had been a mission gone bad, apparently, with one person entering the building and none coming out, only fire and smoke and ruins left behind.

Maria remembers her knees buckling when she saw Steve at her door instead of Natasha, how she’d cried and sobbed until there she felt empty inside, remember’s Nicky’s pudgy arms wrapping around her neck as Steve awkwardly stood there, his expression sorrowful.

Maria suddenly hears a light knocking at her open bedroom door as Nicky stands at the doorway, his backpack slung over his shoulder from school earlier, a worried expression on his face.

“Mom? Is it a bad day again?” His voice is gentle as Maria stares at the ceiling, unmoving. 

“Yeah,” Maria finally replies, her voice slightly hoarse from not being used in so long. “It’s been such a long time but-” she takes a deep breath, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, “I still miss her so much.”

“Tell me about her,” Nicky says as he sits down on her bed, his fourteen-year-old self weighing the mattress down a little in a position he’s been in many times, and Maria’s grateful that he’s here because he fills some of the void that was left when Natasha died.

And Maria lets out a little smile as she remembers the little details; the way Natasha fiddled with her thumb when she was anxious, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled, the way her face lit up when Maria cooked homemade lasagna. 

“Your mother- she just had the brightest smile…”

Maria talks and she can almost feel Natasha’s presence, and inside her, the void starts to fill, little by little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these just keep getting longer and longer and longer...
> 
> how bad is my characterization of maria/nicky? tell me in the comments!


	5. Quell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Quell- v. suppress (a feeling, especially an unpleasant one)"
> 
> a continuation of "monsters," i guess?

**Prompt:** Quell

**Word Count:** 612

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

The next day, it’s different; the atmosphere between them has changed. They’ve reached a common sort of understanding,  _ respect,  _ for one another and Natasha appreciates it.

Except she can’t deny that she wants something  _ more  _ than the alliance that they have and she passes it off as wanting to learn more about Maria since fitting in one piece doesn’t mean solving the puzzle.

(she knows, inside, that it’s something more, but she shoves it down.)

They’re feelings she’s never dealt with before and she learns to quell them, slowly, surely, through the weeks and months, and by the end she’s not sure they even exist anymore. And it doesn’t matter that when she goes over to Maria’s apartment for the first time on shore leave, they order takeout and sit on Maria’s couch together, Maria’s arm draped over her shoulder, pushing their bodies close, or that they sometimes share a knowing smirk as they pass by one another in the halls and Maria’s shoulder just casually brushes against hers.

And she won’t let it become something more because there’s still a monster inside of her, one that could swallow Maria and destroy her if let loose.

(she reminds herself she’s still looking for redemption, but at this point, she’s not sure what she wants,  _ needs, _ more.)

\---

“Natasha,” Maria says, her voice rigid as she catches Natasha walking out of the gym, dragging her into an empty conference room, and Natasha wonders what she did wrong this time, “you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have I?” Natasha asks and she knows her walls are up, that this conversation could be dangerous. She keeps the teasing in her voice, the smirk on her face as a wall of defense and her mind tells her that it’s decently believable.

Except, of course, it’s Maria that’s reading her and she feels as if those blue eyes could see,  _ understand  _ everything that’s happening in her mind, so she’s not sure who she’s fooling anymore.

Maria stares at her for a minute before pulling away. “What are we doing here?” 

Her voice is brutally honest and almost open and it catches Natasha by surprise because this is the side of Maria that drew Natasha to her, the Maria that showed up at her bedroom door with a cup of coffee and her walls down.

“What do you mean?” Natasha replies, struggling to keep up her facade.

“What do you _want_ , Natasha?” Maria questions and Natasha drops the smirk and sits down next to Maria on the conference table.

“I’ve told you, I’m looking for redemption,” Natasha replies, avoiding Maria’s gaze.

Maria looks into her eyes again, her expression unreadable. “But is that the only thing you’re looking for?” 

And Maria leaves her sitting there, walking out of the door after a moment and Natasha realizes that she doesn’t  _ want  _ to know the answer to that question because the truth could be something she, for once, doesn’t know what to do about.

She’s left wandering the maze of her own mind, attempting to make sense of the monsters, the needs, the wants, what she has quelled, suppressed, all lurking in the shadows. 

\---

Later, when she’s in her room, she realizes two things:

One.

She wasn’t completely lying to herself; she is still very interested in Maria because she finds herself wanting to know  _ more _ ; what makes Maria tick, how she is so professional, why she’s the way she is.

Two.

Those feelings that she was suppressing the whole time? They’re still there, alive and kicking and she knows they won’t ever go away, that they’ll be the death of her.

It’s the first time she’s ever felt like she has a self-identity, and it’s like coming up for fresh air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hot mess y'all and i'm not even sorry.  
> i will continue this I PROMISE.


	6. Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shenanigans- n. silly or high-spirited behavior; mischief."
> 
> set before iron man and all the avengers stuff. for once no angst?

**Prompt:** Shenanigans

 **Word Count:** 679

 **Rating:** T+

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

It’s a rare day on the SHIELD Helicarrier where there are no international emergencies or missions gone FUBAR, which means it’s going to be a headache-inducing day for Maria.

Normally, it would be the opposite, except the lull in activity means that Natasha and Barton are stationed on the Helicarrier  _ together _ and it’s pretty much impossible for the two of them to remain still. It shouldn’t be Maria’s problem making sure the two of them don’t do anything too stupid, except Fury has tasked her with watching over them because Coulson’s on shore leave.

Thus, a headache-inducing day.

She’s pretty sure it’s Natasha who comes up with the stupid things the pair does to entertain themselves and Barton who makes them stupider since sometimes, when Natasha thinks Maria is sleeping, Natasha likes to turn on her phone and presumably text Barton, a smirk on her face. 

The moment she enters her office, she can sense something is off. Nothing  _ looks  _ off on first glance, of course, they’re too careful for that.

But upon closer inspection, Maria can see that there are certain things off about her office, such as the small button on her chair cushion that she removes, which probably hooks up to a device somewhere else in the room.

She finds the device on the ceiling (seriously? she thought they were more creative than that) and when she takes it down, she discovers that it’s a small dispenser for strawberry perfume.

It’s an insult to her character, really; she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing perfume of any kind, much less  _ strawberry. _

Maria hears shuffling above her and it is  _ way  _ too early for this.

“Agent Barton!” Maria yells in the most authoritative tone she can muster. “Get your ass down from the vents!”

There’s grumbling as the cover to her ceiling vent slides open and a very dusty Clint Barton pops out, clearly unhappy with being caught.

“Romanoff, this also applies to you!” Maria continues and a moment later, the agent literally  _ flips  _ down, sticking the landing with not even one hair out of place.

Maria cocks an eyebrow up at the two dusty agents standing in front of her, her arms crossed. 

“Seriously?” Maria asks, her tone incredulous. “Barton, I expected the vents from you, but Natasha? Really?”

Natasha only smirks in response as Maria continues.

“ _ Perfume _ ?” Maria questions, holding up the offending bottle. “Who even came up with this?” 

The two agents point at each other and Maria shakes her head at the ridiculousness of the whole thing; it’s not even 09h00 yet and already she’s starting to feel a headache come on.

“I swear, it’s like I’m watching over two children,” Maria mutters as she sits down, cracking open her laptop with the agents still standing in front of her desk, looking slightly awkward. “Barton, I’ll let Coulson decide the punishment. Natasha, you don’t get any action for three days.”

Barton turns and smirks at Natasha, who has such an exaggerated pout on her face it’s funny. “That’s not fair,” Natasha grumbles before trailing behind Barton, who has already left the office.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Maria calls out after them, but she’s pretty sure her words won’t do anything to impact the two scheming agents.

\---

Hours later, after Maria comes back from a bathroom break, she finds red roses sitting on her desk in a crystal vase, wrapped in a pink bow.

Maria doesn’t even know where they  _ came  _ from (they're 40,000 feet high in the sky, for Thor's sake), but there’s a card attached that reads “I’m sorry, I love you, please have sex with me tonight” in Natasha’s handwriting and Maria smirks at the bluntness of it.

She sits back down on her chair, immediately hearing a small hiss come from above her as the scent of strawberry fills the air.

“Barton, Romanoff, you’re  _ dead _ !” Maria screams as she attempts to swat the scent away with her hands.

She hears laughter coming from the ceiling and bangs her head on her desk repeatedly, hoping that it will make her headache go away.


	7. Tantalize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 of Aureate August 2018  
> "Tantalize- v. excite the senses or desires of (someone)."
> 
> not really my best writing, sorry guys.

**Prompt:** Tantalize

 **Word Count:** 785

 **Rating:** M

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

Maria watches as Natasha throws down yet another agent onto the gym mats, Natasha looming over him for a moment before sashaying away, catching Maria’s eye with a slight smirk and a wink (a wink? where did _that_ come from?) as she walks towards her.

(she notices that Natasha’s swaying her hips just a little more, but she stops herself from thinking more of it.)

“Romanoff,” Maria says curtly as Natasha walks up to her, her heart beating quicker because of Natasha’s close proximity, her green eyes staring into Maria’s blue.

“Hill,” Natasha returns in a completely different tone; teasing and almost sultry and Maria hates this so much, the fact that someone can make her feel this way just by slamming another person onto the floor, “want to spar?”

The thoughts that Maria has in the middle of the night come rushing back in full force; Natasha ruthlessly dominating her, ramming her against a wall or throwing her onto a bed but Maria isn’t the type to back down from a challenge. She chastises herself for the thoughts as she nods and quickly wraps her hands because she’s supposed to be professional, hardened, and thinking those thoughts about a _coworker_ is the opposite of who she’s supposed to be.

They assume their positions and Natasha has her laying flat on the mat within minutes, her chest heaving. The agent looms over her, smirking for a moment before offering her hand to help Maria get back up and Maria doesn’t allow herself to think anymore of it other than a helping hand.

Maria doesn’t know why, but she takes it.

(actually, she does know why, it’s just for reasons that aren’t appropriate.)

Her fingers brush against Natasha’s for the first time and it’s _soft_ , nothing like she has imagined, but she shoves the thought down as she stands up on her two feet.

Natasha looks like she’s about to say something, but then her phone rings and she’s called away, giving Maria one last smirk as she runs out of the gym.

\---

It’s a couple of weeks later and Maria’s sitting in her bedroom when she hears a knock on her door, opening it to see Natasha standing there, perfect as usual.

“May I come in?” Natasha asks, her voice sounding polite but she’s staring into Maria’s eyes again, peering into her soul like she always seems to do.

“Sure,” Maria replies, stepping aside to let the agent walk in. She’s curious as to why Natasha’s here, unannounced, but she keeps her mouth shut to give Natasha a chance to explain herself.

Natasha surveys her room with some sort of curiosity, standing there for a moment before turning back to look at Maria.

“I was going to ask something in the gym,” Natasha suddenly says, taking a step closer to Maria, “but I never got to.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” Maria questions, trying to keep her tone professional but there’s a hint of curiosity in her tone.

“Sure,” Natasha responds, pausing a moment, looking around Maria’s room before focusing her eyes back onto Maria’s.

“I’m just wondering about your motivation,” Natasha finally says. “What do you want?”

“Rather direct, aren’t we?” Maria asks, proud of the slightly teasing tone her voice carries. But Natasha’s eyes are still staring into hers and Maria finds herself getting lost in the green pools, finally submitting to the question.

“What I want and what I can have are two very different things,” Maria finally answers, slightly dropping her head.

“That’s a hard way to live, isn’t it?” Natasha asks, taking a step closer and Maria feels like prey for some reason. “When something is right in front of you, just in your reach, yet you can’t take it?”

Natasha’s face is inches from hers and Maria can’t deny the pooling heat in her legs as Natasha stands up on the tips of her feet, grabbing onto Maria’s hands and leaning her head slightly so that her mouth is millimeters from Maria’s ear, so close that she can feel Natasha’s breath.

“And the thing is, it’s willing to be taken,” Natasha whispers, her breath ghosting across Maria’s ear, “isn’t that right?”

Natasha lingers for a moment and Maria can feel the exhales slightly brushing against her skin, but the entire thing feels almost _surreal_.

Then Natasha leans back, sinks down to her normal height and lets go of Maria’s hands and Maria automatically misses the feeling of Natasha’s fingers intertwining with her own. The agent smirks at her, standing there before walking to Maria’ door.

“You’ll know where to find me.”

And Natasha disappears into the hall, leaving Maria with the feeling of Natasha’s breath on her skin.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i continue this?


	8. Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tempest- n. a violent storm."
> 
> Part Three of "Monsters"  
> (Part 1: Chapter 3, "Monsters")  
> (Part 2: Chapter 5, "Quell")

**Prompt:** Tempest

**Word Count:** 760

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Natasha finds Maria on her apartment rooftop, leaning against a stone wall. They were on shore leave for a couple of days and Natasha had broken into Maria’s apartment, waited for thirty minutes before realizing that Maria was probably  _ not  _ going to be there.

Really, she’d wanted to talk to Maria because she’d finally figured out what she wanted between them and she was done suppressing her feelings, except it seemed like whoever was up there had different plans for her tonight.

Maria doesn’t even turn to acknowledge her presence when Natasha shuts the fire escape, the door closing with a loud  _ bang _ and Natasha slowly walks up to the wall and stands next to Maria.

She’s holding a beer in one hand, taking occasional sips and Natasha can see the city lights reflecting on Maria’s skin.

“Growing up, I was always angry,” Maria suddenly says as she stares out to the city lights, breaking their silence. Natasha watches as she dips her head slightly, letting out a sigh, and there’s a certain honesty in Maria’s tone, an openness.

“Angry at what?” Natasha prompts, her voice soft, gentle because she knows Maria  _ needs  _ this; letting out some of the demons of her past.

“Life in general,” Maria tilts her head to meet Natasha’s eyes, “anything, really, that I could use as an excuse to be angry.”

Maria’s silent for a moment as they listen to a police car pass by their building, sirens blaring.

“God, I don’t  _ why  _ I was so angry. Looking back, it just seems… stupid,” Maria says, letting out a sad chuckle. “I got into so many fights, got suspended, beaten up for fighting…”

Maria looks down again, fingers playing with a string on her flannel while avoiding Natasha’s gaze and Natasha stays silent because talking won’t help now, that much she knows.

She imagines a younger Maria, one that is less controlled; leading with her heart instead of her head. It’s a striking image and Natasha thinks of an uncontrollable storm for some reason; a tempest with a black eye and bloodied knuckles.

“I was just  _ so fucking mad _ ,” Maria emphasizes the last three words, “at everything.”

“And are you now?” Natasha asks after a moment, her voice low.

Maria finally meets Natasha’s eyes, something unreadable inside of the clear blue pools and it’s jarring to see.

“I don’t know,” Maria finally answers, looking back out to the city, almost sounding  _ defeated _ . “I certainly don’t have a reason to be. I have a job that I like, I have a stable financial future,” she looks at Natasha again, “I have whatever this is...” Maria trails off.

Natasha recognizes this as a chance to tell Maria what she wants from their relationship, except it doesn’t  _ feel  _ right for some reason; interrupting Maria’s moment with hers.

She stays silent and lets Maria talk.

“Maybe I’m not angry. Maybe I’m just,” she grapples for the right word, “longing for something that I can’t ever seem to obtain.”

This side of Maria, this  _ openness _ , is something that Natasha’s not accustomed to and she doesn’t know how to react to Maria with all of her walls down, her eyes brutally honest as Natasha stares into them.

“Do you know what you want?” Natasha asks and she doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to say, for once.

“I think so,” Maria replies while looking down again, pausing for a moment and Natasha can’t tell why. “Maybe I’m just angry I can’t have it.”

“What’s keeping you from it?” Natasha prompts.

And then Maria looks at her dead in the eye and suddenly Natasha knows the answer and the revelation is something she’s only experienced once in her lifetime; the sudden moment of clarity that feels like coming up for fresh air.

Natasha takes a step closer to Maria and they’re a couple of inches apart from each other as Natasha opens her mouth.

“There’s nothing barring you. Not anymore.”

Their first kiss is nothing like Natasha’s ever imagined, gentle and loving instead of fiery and passionate and it almost feels like flying for some reason; leaping into the sky and feeling a rush of  _ freedom _ .

And as Natasha leans back, she sees Maria’s hair is tousled and her eyes twinkling in the night, the city lights shining on her cheeks as Maria lets out a small smile.

This is what she was looking for. 

And this is what  _ Maria  _ was longing for. 

The thought is freeing, and Natasha smiles as she leans in to bridge their gap, bringing her lips to Maria’s.


	9. lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Metaphor- n. a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable."
> 
> will be continued eventually?

**Prompt:** Metaphor

 **Word Count:**  800

**Rating:**  T+

**Warnings:**  None

* * *

 

 

This feeling: it’s something she’s never experienced before.

She’s walking with her team in the blanket of the clouds covering the night sky, the temperature cooler than it had been in the day and it’s completely quiet except for the crunching of the sand beneath their boots. A gust of wind blows against her but she can’t really feel it; all she can sense is the sand that’s everywhere; in her shoes, her pants, her hair.

Hill is supposed to be their leader, be the one that directs the team and knows what options are the best except this time, she’s failed them because they’re lost with no sense of direction.

“Sarge,” someone calls out from behind her and she thinks it’s Specialist Johnson, with a wife and three kids back at home (it’s another reminder of how she’s let them down), “where are we going?”

“If I’m going to be honest,” Hill replies, “I’ve got no fucking clue.”

The feeling comes rushing over her again as they walk and it’s jarring in the worst way, because she hates this; the feeling of being lost.

“That sandstorm sure fucked things up,” someone else yells and there’s a chorus of agreement coming from behind her. 

They walk for a couple of more minutes, hours, seconds, Hill can’t be sure before she’s finally had enough. 

“We’re stopping here,” Hill commands and the sound of crunching stops, only to be replaced by the relieved sighs of her team as they set their bags down. “Does anyone recognize this place?” Maria asks.

“All I see is sand,” Johnson replies.

“Dammit,” Hill curses. “Okay, we’ll set up camp here, wait ‘till morning.”

They find their way back to the base a day and a half later and the feeling subsides soon after.

(she’ll never forget it.)

\---

When SHIELD falls and she’s left to fend for herself, she thinks back to that mission in the desert and the feeling that comes with it.

It hits her in waves; washes over her and drowns her like a sea and she comes to the realization that she’s lost again, without any direction as to where she should go. With SHIELD, with the army, there was always some sort of structure; a goal and a promise to live by and reach towards and without it, she just feels… confused.

Except there’s no sand in her clothes, no clouds covering the night sky, no comments from the rest of her team because it’s just her, alone and without direction.

\---

She starts working at Stark Industries and the feeling almost dissipates, except she can’t help feeling like there’s something missing.

There’s a routine she follows now; wake up, run, go to work, go back to her apartment, repeat.

(it gives her structure, so she’ll live with it.)

She’s walking back to her apartment after a day of negotiating with mind-bogglingly stupid people when she notices that something’s off about her apartment door. There’s only one lock that’s twisted instead of her normal two and she draws her gun as she cracks open the door, quietly stepping inside.

“Don’t shoot me,” someone says in the dark and Maria’s both relieved and annoyed as she turns on the lights, meeting the sight of Natasha sitting on her couch, slowly sipping some water.

“Fucking hell, Natasha,” Maria says, tone annoyed, “I could’ve killed you.”

“Good thing you didn’t,” Natasha replies, smirking as usual but there’s something off about her green eyes, they’re muddled and cloudy as opposed to the normal striking clarity and they almost look… lost.

Maria doesn’t know why but she sets down her gun and plops down on the couch next to Natasha, staring into her eyes. “Why are you here?”

Natasha stares at her for a moment before looking down, her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know.”

Her tone is open and it’s unlike anything Maria’s heard before, almost- confused, for lack of better terms, and Maria’s reminded of the desert again. She can’t stop the words from leaving her mouth, “You feel lost, don’t you?” Maria asks, voice quiet.

Natasha looks at her again before giving Maria a small nod.

“Do you feel it too?” Natasha asks, almost hesitantly and this time it’s Maria’s turn to nod as Natasha continues after a moment. “With SHIELD falling, I lost structure. A purpose.”

“I tried to find one for months after. Didn’t work out,” Natasha finally says.

It’s jarring hearing these words from Natasha since it’s all Maria’s ever felt for months and months since the fall of SHIELD and Maria realizes they are almost the same; given missions their entire lives, thriving within an organization and a given purpose.

Maria lets the words hang in the air as they sit in silence, staring out into empty space in front of them.


	10. Collywobbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Collywobbles- n. stomach pain or queasiness.”

**Prompt:** Collywobbles

**Word Count:** 614

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Maria Hill is just done. With life. 

For one thing, it’s the day before their anniversary. And since Maria wanted to do something special and  _ not  _ spend the day on the Helicarrier, eating shitty food and drinking shittier coffee, she had to go through the channels of requesting shore leave not only for her, but for Natasha as well.

Of course, Fury granted them leave but only after some major delegation on her part, which was a major headache.

Then, things went FUBAR in China and suddenly  _ she  _ has to be the one arguing with Chinese officials to get the agents released and make sure they make it back on the Helicarrier, except she could barely understand anything since they didn’t have enough time to get an interpreter.

She barely makes it off the ship and races back to their apartment, hoping that Natasha is already there.

And of course, her wife isn’t because nothing in this day could go right, could it?

Maria knows Natasha will be back eventually, maybe with some food so she just grabs a beer and plops down on the couch, turning on the TV and letting it drone on in the background while scrolling through her phone.

She didn’t think this could get any worse, except, of course, it can.

The headache earlier suddenly comes rushing back, making her head feel like it’s being pelted with a pile of bricks and then her stomach, for some reason, decides that the cafeteria food she ate earlier (never,  _ ever _ , go with the shrimp again, Maria notes) doesn’t belong in her body and she’s hit with a wave of nausea so bad she nearly doubles over.

The stomachache doesn’t go away as Maria lies there on the couch, abandoned beer sitting on the coffee table while she wallows in her own physical misery.

She hates everything.

\---

“Maria?” Natasha calls out, kicking the apartment door shut behind her as she carries groceries in both hands, “I’m back.”

Maria doesn’t respond instantly, for some reason, but then she hears a groan coming from the couch and Natasha walks closer. She’s met with the sight of her wife lying on the couch, left arm dangling down while her right hand lazily covers her eyes and Natasha smirks at the scene.

“You alright there, Maria?” Natasha teases, crouching down to meet Maria’s eye level.

Maria slowly turns her head sideways and even her glare isn’t anything like it normally is. “Stop laughing,” Maria mumbles, turning her head back. “M’stomach hurts.”

The words don’t do anything to quell Natasha’s amusement. “Aw, Hard-ass Hill, brought down by a stomach bug.”

Maria swats at Natasha with her hand but ends up missing, almost tumbling off the couch in the process and Natasha catches her side as she’s about to fall off.

Natasha stares at Maria’s half-covered blue eyes and even in her wife’s borderline-delirious state, they’re still as clear as they’ve ever been.

“Fuckin’ shrimp at the cafeteria,” Maria mumbles, turning her head away again. Natasha slightly smirks as she holds Maria’s side in her arms. “Why are you still laughing?” Maria asks, eyes half-open as she looks at Natasha’s expression.

“You’re cute when you’re like this,” Natasha states simply.

“Hopefully that isn’t why you married me,” Maria replies, still sounding miserable as she drops her other hand from her eyes.

“Oh, trust me,” Natasha retorts, “this isn’t the only reason why I said yes.”

“Now come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Natasha helps Maria up from the couch, her wife slightly stumbling as they make their way to their bedroom.

And even though Maria’s stomach still hurts, she realizes she hates everything just a little less.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Adagio- adj. (especially as a direction) in slow tempo."
> 
> also i'm writing fluff? what is going on??

**Prompt:** Adagio

**Word Count:** 612

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

It’s another one of Stark’s fundraisers that Maria has to make an appearance at and she expects this one will be like the rest; mingling for a couple of hours, wishing that she was anywhere but here. 

She’s on drink number two and hour number one and a half when she spots a familiar blaze of red enter the room and suddenly, things have just perked up a little.

(she and Romanoff: they’ve always had history, playing cat and mouse with each other when it could be so much more than that.)

Maria politely excuses herself from the group she’s standing with and weaves through the clusters of half-drunk important people, walking towards Natasha. As she approaches the agent, she can see what Natasha has put on for the night; black heels, definitely capable of stabbing someone, black dress, showing just enough cleavage to be borderline-scandalous, hair freshly curled and worn down, like always.

Maria’s outfit pales in comparison to Natasha’s; she’s wearing a black suit with a navy blue tie, hair in a bun like it always is. Nothing special.

Natasha spots her and meets her eyes, green eyes staring into blue and Maria can feel the tension between them as she walks closer.

“Hill,” Natasha says, her voice carrying its familiar, teasing edge, “you clean up nicely.”

Her eyes rake over Maria’s figure and Maria suddenly feels self-conscious, but she doesn’t show it. “You too, Romanoff,” Maria replies, staring into Natasha’s eyes, the electricity crackling between them. There’s a sudden need for fresh air and Maria clutches her hand around Natasha’s wrist. “Come on, let’s go out to the balcony. I need a break.”

Natasha doesn’t protest as Maria leads her outside, away from the swarms of people but they can still faintly hear the twinkling of the piano coming from inside as they step onto the balcony.

“A break already?” Natasha smirks, cocking up an eyebrow.

“Well, unlike some people, I don’t blend in seamlessly in social situations,” Maria retorts. Her hand is still wrapped around Natasha’s wrist and she decides to keep it there, just because she likes the unexpected softness of Natasha’s skin.    

She can hear the music change into a slower piece, adagio in tempo as it seeps out of the balcony doors. And Natasha must sense it too because she suddenly grabs Maria’s free hand and the tension between them is back, stronger than ever, pulsating in the night air.

“Let’s dance,” Natasha leans in and murmurs into Maria’s ear, her breath skimming over Maria’s skin before dissipating into the night.

Maria’s about to protest because she really  _ doesn’t _ dance, but Natasha’s already wormed her way out of Maria’s grasp and wrapped her arms around Maria’s waist and she can’t say no anymore.

(she could never say no to Natasha.)

The twinkling of the piano fill the silence between them, sweeping them up in its melody and Maria feels like she’s somewhere else, where only the only thing that exists is the perfect woman in her arms, not outside on a balcony, avoiding the crowds inside.

They just sway back and forth, letting the slow tempo guide them with its rhythm, the city lights burning around them as Natasha rests her head on Maria’s shoulder.

It feels intimate, Natasha in her arms; more intimate than it had the right to be. The tension between them is still there, of course, but it’s not crackling like electricity anymore, it’s more subdued, slow, smooth.

And Maria finds she doesn’t need anything more because  _ this,  _ right here, is enough; the melody leaking out from inside, night air cool around them, Natasha warm in her embrace as they dance.


	12. Chrysalism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Chrysalism- n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof..."
> 
> it's like a fuckin fluff train hop on people we're going for a ride cause for some reason, this fluff streak ain't stopping.

**Prompt:**  Chrysalism

**Word Count:** 669

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

 

* * *

 

 

Maria can hear the pitter-patter of rain against their apartment windows, the occasional flash of light in the night sky followed by a loud clap of thunder as her left hand plays with Natasha’s hair, the red strands slipping through her fingers like silk. Natasha’s reading a book quietly as her head rests upon Maria’s lap, the sounds of pages turning occasionally interrupting the steady waves of rain hitting the window. Maria scrolls through her phone slowly, occasionally raising her left hand to answer an email or type something.

If someone were to tell a young Maria that she would have  _ this  _ when she grew older, Maria would’ve scoffed at them because  _ this  _ seems too good to be true; the simple domesticity in their relationship welcome yet unexpected.

Maria hears Natasha slam her book shut, her girlfriend gently leaning her head deeper into Maria’s lap as she rests her hands on her stomach.

“Hey,” Natasha says, her voice low and scratchy, almost like in the mornings when she’s just woken up, “what are you doing?”

“Negotiating with Germany,” Maria replies, lifting her right hand from Natasha’s hair to type out an email, “they found some weapons and we need them back.”

Natasha is silent for a couple of moments as Maria’s fingers fly, the sound of rain still thrumming in the background before a loud boom sounds throughout their apartment.

“Shit,” Natasha curses as everything powers off, the ceiling lamp lighting the room suddenly dark as the room turns pitch-black, save for the artificial light coming from Maria’s phone and the night sky seeping in from the windows, the raindrops cascading down the windows reflecting onto the floor.

Maria’s senses are on high alert even though they’re safe inside a New York apartment, one that not even Clint knows about and she can tell Natasha is too, by the way her shoulders tighten.

“There goes our ice cream,” Maria mutters as she presses  _ send  _ and turns off her phone, the light from the device gone.

“Seriously?” Natasha asks, sounding annoyed and amused at the same time. “ _ Ice cream  _ is what you think of?” 

Maria knows that Natasha’s raising up one perfectly-manicured eyebrow right now and she can feel the intensity of Natasha’s stare, even in the dark.

“There are  _ far _ more important things, Maria,” Natasha continues as she lifts her head off of Maria’s lap, the sounds of Natasha shuffling cutting into the drums of rain. Maria instantly misses the warmth of Natasha’s head and she wraps an arm around Natasha’s shoulder, pulling her girlfriend closer.

“Like?” Maria probes, her voice slightly teasing.

“What about the vodka?” Natasha half- _ whines _ and Maria slightly chuckles at Natasha’s petulant tone. “Hey! This is a serious matter!”

“You can take the girl out of Russia, but you can’t take Russia out of the girl,” Maria mumbles, smirking slightly as she lets out another chuckle, gently shaking her head with amusement in the dark while pulling Natasha closer to her.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Natasha mutters, pressed against Maria’s side, still sounding petulant.

“That’s because I am!” Maria retorts, pressing a sloppy kiss against Natasha’s forehead.

“Be glad that I love you,” Natasha says, the three-word phrase traded with each other so many times that there’s no hesitancy in saying it. Natasha nuzzles her nose against the crook of Maria’s neck, her chest so close that Maria can feel the steady beat of her girlfriend’s heart, even against the sounds of rain pattering against the glass of their windows.

“Always,” Maria replies gently, shuffling her right hand around a little until she finds Natasha’s chin, tilting it up. Her lips connect with Natasha’s perfectly, even in the dark apartment where Maria can barely see anything.

Outside, the storm rages on, sending down bolts of light from the sky, angry waves of rain pelting down from the clouds, claps of thunder that reverberate through the city but inside, the warmth of feeling at home radiates against the chill of a summer storm.  


	13. lost. (pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dwale - v., to wander about deliriously or as if asleep."
> 
> a continuation of "lost" (chapter 9)  
> Day 17 of Aureate August 2018
> 
> leaped off the fluff train for this one but don't worry, i'm getting back on soon.

**Prompt:** Dwale

**Word Count:** 769

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Natasha stumbles, half-delirious as she schlepps through the soggy leaves gathered on the sidewalk, her brain barely processing the numbers on the apartment before one sticks out to her. She almost trips on the stairs to the doorway but there’s a little overhang where the buzzer is, providing her a welcome relief from the rain that had been pelting her moments earlier.

She raises her hand up, almost drunkenly, buzzing apartment number two-eleven and there’s a crackle as a familiar voice sounds through the tinny speaker.

“Let me in,” Natasha mumbles and Maria says something, her tone concerned but Natasha’s too tired to process what she’s said, only caring about the click as the door unlocks.

Natasha limps up a flight of stairs, not caring about the wet and bloody footprints that probably follow her and she stumbles a little as she reaches the landing, walking down a hallway before reaching a door with the number eleven written on it. She’s barely even raised her hand to knock before the door swings open, revealing a very-concerned looking Maria.

“What the-” Maria mutters as Natasha stumbles in and literally  _ collapses  _ into Maria’s couch, streaking blood on the floor behind her.  

“Natasha, what the fuck happened?” Maria asks, sounding pissed and concerned at the same time and Natasha can barely get the words out as her vision starts to blur.

“Gunshot… calf…,” Natasha gets out before leaning her head back on the couch armrest, her eyes struggling to keep open, “knife… met hip…”

“What?” Maria literally  _ shouts _ , jolting Natasha slightly as she runs into her bathroom, grabbing the first-aid kit and other medical supplies she kept in stock. 

“Shouldn’t have let you leave the apartment,” Maria mumbles as she dashes back, her hands clad in blue rubber gloves, kneeling down on a knee as she inspects Natasha’s left calf, unwrapping a bloodstained sweater as she looks at the wound.

“You need to go to a hospital,” Maria says and Natasha can see the clear blue of her eyes, even in her delirious state.

“Just a,” Natasha winces as Maria moves her leg, “scratch.”

“You got grazed by a fucking bullet, Natasha!” Maria yells. Natasha’s obviously in no state to go to the hospital and Maria has the right supplies to tend to Natasha’s injuries, her medical training from the army coming into use as she starts to disinfect Natasha’s leg.

It almost feels instinctual, as if taking care of Natasha is something she does regularly and Maria finds that she doesn’t mind. 

\---

Hours later, Natasha has showered, changed, gotten her stab wound and bullet graze disinfected and bandaged and after Maria makes sure Natasha doesn’t have a concussion, she finally allows Natasha to sleep. 

Maria listens to the even sounds of Natasha breathing, Maria lying in her bed next to Natasha as her brain processes the whirlwind of events.

Natasha had left her apartment a couple of weeks earlier after Maria had pointed out that she was lost, citing that she needed to go “find herself.”

_ (“You’re right,” Natasha says, standing at the door with her backpack in hand at three in the morning, “I am lost.” _

_ “Don’t leave,” Maria protests but she knows it’s no use, Natasha’s made her mind up already. _

_ “I’m trying to find myself again, Maria.” Natasha pauses for a moment, staring deep into Maria’s eyes. “I can’t do that here.”) _

And Maria, being the idiot that she was, let Natasha go.

Maria stares at Natasha’s sleeping figure, her face peaceful with her eyes closed and she looks younger, more carefree almost in this state and Maria turns around, flicking her lamp off before sinking down in the mattress so that her body is level with Natasha’s.

The sudden urge to reach over and stoke Natasha’s face washes over her and she almost does it, stopping herself at the last minute.

The weeks where Natasha had disappeared afterward were admittedly hard to get through as she sorted through her own feelings and Maria remembers the moment where she’d realized that Natasha’s presence, even for a couple of hours, was the most grounding thing she had felt in a long time; making Maria feel like almost  _ herself  _ again.

Slowly, hesitantly, Maria finds Natasha’s hand in the dark, lightly intertwining her fingers with Natasha’s and she’s relieved when Natasha doesn’t stir.

She’ll deal with the consequences in the morning but right now, with Natasha sleeping next to her, it almost feels like  _ home _ and even for a moment, she feels like herself again. 

Maria drifts off to sleep peacefully, grasping onto Natasha’s hand in the dead of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Jubilant- adj. feeling or expressing great happiness and triumph.”
> 
> aaand we're back on the fluff train  
> i'm so fuckin tired

**Prompt:** Jubilant

 **Word Count:** 534

 **Rating:**  T+

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

The sounds of skin hitting skin echo throughout the gym, the fluorescent lights reflecting off the drops of sweat on Natasha’s and Maria’s faces as they spar. Maria jabs and Natasha blocks, their arms and legs flying back and forth in a flurry of activity.

Finally, Maria forces Natasha on the mats, her back hitting the floor with a hard _thud_. There’s a moment where Natasha resists but it’s futile because she taps out a couple of minutes later, Maria leaping up the instant Natasha surrenders.

“Damnit,” Natasha curses, standing back up with the help of Maria’s outreached hand even though with the shit-eating grin on Maria’s face.

“I beat you!” Maria singsongs, her smile wide as she grabs a towel and wipes the droplets of sweat off her face. “I beat Black freakin’ Widow!”

Maria dances around a little as she takes a swig of her water and it’s so out of character to see Hill this _happy_ but Natasha’s also grinning because, _fuck,_ this is probably the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

“Fine, fine, you got me,” Natasha concedes.

“And guess what you have to do now?” Maria says happily, turning around to meet Natasha’s eyes.

Natasha internally groans as she remembers the bet she’d made with her girlfriend: if Maria ever beat her, Natasha would have to get her a _single rubber duck_.

(yes, Natasha was shocked too because, apparently, Hard-ass Hill has a thing for _ducks.)_

And it’s not like she’s reluctant to do it, it’s more of her pride that’s hurt about ever having to honor the deal she made.

“You suck,” Natasha pouts and Maria smirks at her, crossing her arms on her chest and Natasha notices the way the sweat makes highlights Maria’s muscles.

(she’ll never get over how perfect Maria is, both inside and out.)

“You made the bet!” Maria retorts, checking her phone before cursing. “Shit. I have a meeting soon. See you later?”

Maria’s eyes are still lit up and happy and Natasha gives her a quick nod, watching Hill (more like her ass, but whatever) as she disappears into the locker room, Maria giving her a quick smirk before the door shuts behind her.  

Natasha knows she was caught looking as she turns around, internally letting out a sigh as she thinks of the task at hand: honoring the bet.

How the hell was she going to get a rubber duck 40,000 feet high in the sky?

\---

Natasha watches as Maria trots through her bedroom door, her blue eyes instantly lighting up when she sees what Natasha is cupping inside her two hands: a yellow rubber duck. Maria _squeals_ as she picks up the object and Natasha smiles at her girlfriend’s joy, her smile so wide that it’s contagious.

Natasha had considered pranking Maria again like the time with the strawberry perfume or with the lizards but this time, she went with her gut because she just wants to do something nice for Maria for a change.

And Maria’s expression as she squeezes the duck is one of the best things she’s ever witnessed and it makes hassling forty agents worth it.

In the end, she knows it’ll always be worth it.

As long as it’s for Maria.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Zephyr- n. a soft gentle breeze."
> 
> and the fluff train keeps chugging.

**Prompt:** Zephyr

**Word Count:** 561

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

There’s a soft breeze blowing across their faces as they stare up into the night sky, the stars shining in the night and Natasha turns her head, watches one of Maria’s stray hairs flail around in the gust of night air. They aren’t far from the Avengers compound, but here, it feels like they’re a million miles away and it’s just them and the universe, the open sky bright.

“Do you ever think of how large the universe is?” Maria suddenly asks softly, breaking their silence and there’s a certain wonderous tone to her voice. “There’s probably billions of years of history behind us.”

Then, her voice so soft that Natasha can barely hear her, Maria says, “-and it makes you feel insignificant, you know?”

It’s more of a phrase than a question, but this side of Maria is something that she never exposes. And as Natasha stares out into the sky, she thinks she gets it; the stars shining bright, millions of lightyears away, the mountains in the distance, holding the history of the Earth in layers of rock and she’s never really considered it before, how insignificant they all are compared to the universe. 

“Yeah,” Natasha replies softly, “I feel it too.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the silence filled by the cicadas chirping because words don’t need to be said, just watching the sky is enough and Natasha can see the stars shining brightly, almost like someone poked holes in a dark fabric and shone a light through it.

“But sometimes it feels like it’s just you and me,” Maria admits softly, her tone drowsy, “and we’re alone in the universe.”

Natasha doesn't respond for a moment, instead processing what Maria's just said and how she feels it too, sometimes, when they're taking a walk in the park, when she's lying in the morning sun, wrapped in Maria's embrace, when they watch the sunset over a lake not far from Clint's farm.

“I wish that was the case,” Natasha replies and Maria lets out a short chuckle at that.

“Oh, that would make everything so much easier, wouldn’t it?” Maria responds, amusement in her voice.

“Of course,” Natasha says. “Imagine. You and me, we live on a farm-“

“A farm?” Maria asks, disbelief evident in her tone.

“Well, if Clint can do it…” Natasha trails off, silent for a moment before continuing. “Anyways, you and me and a bunch of animals. And then we have like, vegetable gardens and fruit trees and stuff. And an obnoxious rooster that wakes us up at five in the morning.”

“And there’s no world to save because we’re the only ones in it!” Maria exclaims and Natasha lets out a laugh, deep and hearty as she tilts her head back towards the sky.

“Exactly,” Natasha says, grinning.

“We’re a bunch of idiotic saps, aren’t we?” Maria asks, chuckling softly. Natasha turns towards her again and she can feel Maria’s smile in the darkness as she finds Maria’s hand and grasps onto it, her fingers entwining with Maria’s like she’s done so many times before. 

“Definitely,” Natasha agrees, shifting her body closer to Maria’s as another gust of wind blows over them and this time, she can feel a stray brown hair tickle her face.

In this moment, it’s just them and the universe; two idiotic saps lying underneath a blanket of stars.


	16. it's fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Kismet- n. destiny; fate."   
> Day 20 of Aureate August 2018
> 
> it's now a fluff train that makes occasional stops at angstytown cause why the hell not.

**Prompt:** Kismet

**Word Count:** 774

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

Maria stands at their bedroom doorway, a bag slung over her shoulder but Natasha can’t bring herself to look at Maria in her clear blue eyes as she sits on her bed, looking down at her hands.

(she knows what’s going to happen; she’ll get drawn in and never want to look away, ever.)

“I guess this is it,” Maria says somewhat awkwardly, apologetically, and her voice is small, almost defeated and that’s what kills Natasha the most.

“Where are you going to stay?” Natasha asks and she hates how her voice breaks at the last word, making her sound vulnerable and heartbroken and everything she shouldn’t be, except she is even though she knew that this was coming; it was never going to work out, but she let herself get attached anyway because she’s a motherfucking idiot.

“Stark’s sending me overseas and there’s an apartment and everything,” Maria trails off, taking a couple steps into Natasha’s room and Natasha finally gives in, meeting her eyes with Maria’s and she knows she should look away but she can’t, the blue eyes reminding her of a cloudy winter day.

And then Maria closes the distance between them, sitting right next to Natasha so that Maria’s facing her and Natasha turns herself as well, her right leg falling on the mattress while her left dangles down and they’re so close together, their lips mere centimeters apart.

“Tell me that I don’t need to do this,” Maria murmurs, her breath like a soft breeze on Natasha’s skin, “tell me that I don’t need to leave.”

“I can’t-” Natasha whispers and there’s a dam inside her that’s about to burst.

(they’d agreed before that nothing good was going to come from this and Natasha remembers the fateful conversation, clear as day on the morning after another explosive argument where they had verbally sparred for hours, trading phrases that they didn’t mean, their differences almost too much.

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you see a happy ending for us, Natasha?”

she doesn’t, and that’s the heartbreaking thing: it was bound to happen anyway and at this point, they were down to saving themselves.)

“-because this needs to happen.” Natasha finishes and she doesn’t know why there’s a wet streak running down her face but Maria brings a hand up to Natasha’s cheek, her thumb slowly stroking Natasha’s skin and wiping off tears pouring down her face.

They stare at each other for a moment more before it’s too much and Maria crashes their lips against one another and it’s regretful and filled with sorrow and reminds Natasha of everything that she can’t ever have, the tears streaming down both of their faces with their eyes closed. 

“Do you think this,  _ we, _ would have ever worked?” Maria asks, leaning back just a little, still resting her forehead on Natasha’s, breathless and eyes still half-closed.

They both know the answer: no, it never would’ve worked out because their differences, their needs, are too much and they were only hurting themselves in the process, it was destined that they were never going end up happy with each other.

Natasha doesn’t say anything, instead she just brings her lips to Maria’s again, slightly leaning her head upward to close the gap between them and it’s everything she can’t say, the  _ I’m sorry _ ’s and the  _ I can’t do this anymore _ ’s and the  _ I love you _ ’s.

“I wish it were different,” Natasha murmurs, pulling away and she sees the tears on Maria’s face, “but you know we  _ both  _ can’t do this anymore. I’m killing you and you’re killing me and we’re killing each other-”

She’s silenced, once again, by another kiss and Natasha jerks away after a moment because she feels like her heart is being torn into two.

“Stop,” Natasha breathes, distancing herself from Maria just a little. 

(it hurts too much.)

Maria stares at her for a moment, her eyes glossy with tears before she stands up, the mattress still sunken in a little from where she was sitting.

“I have a plane to catch,” Maria says, straightening out her jacket just a little, turning her back, walking to the bedroom doorway before pausing. “Goodbye.”

Natasha can’t help but notice the way Maria’s voice cracks at the end of the last word and she opens her mouth to say something but it’s too late, Maria’s already stepping outside the door.

It’s only when the footsteps disappear that Natasha whispers “goodbye” and she knows that their relationship was doomed from the beginning, that it was destiny that they would split apart.

So why is it so hard to let go? 


	17. Effervescent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Effervescent- adj. (of a liquid) giving off bubbles; fizzy.”  
> Day 21 of Aureate August 2018

**Prompt:** “Effervescent- adj.  (of a liquid) giving off bubbles; fizzy.”

**Word Count:** 642

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Maria hears a knock on her door and she checks the door, noting that it’s exactly one pm and that means that it’s Natasha waiting outside, probably holding their lunch and another cup of coffee for Maria. It’s a much-needed break for Maria since she’s been dealing with bureaucrats and idiots all morning and she lets out a little smile as Natasha walks in, carrying a brown paper bag.

“Hey,” Natasha says, setting down the coffee and food on Maria’s desk, leaning over and pecking Maria on the lips, her eyes shining brightly as she leans back, “how’s your day so far?”

“Horrible,” Maria replies and Natasha smiles a little at her small pout before she takes their lunch out of the bag, two very good-looking salads and two apples appearing on Maria’s desk. “Let’s not talk about work though,” Maria continues, grabbing a fork and taking a bite of her lunch.

“Okay,” Natasha replies and they descend into a comfortable silence, filled with the humming of the Helicarrier and occasional crunching of lettuce.

“Oh!” Natasha exclaims suddenly, “I forgot. I got something else for you.”

Maria notices Natasha’s eyes lighting up again as she pulls out a glass bottle filled with brown, fizzy liquid that Maria immediately recognizes as-

“Root beer?” Maria asks, and she can’t hide the excitement in her voice. “You remembered?”

“Of course,” Natasha replies, smiling a little as Maria thinks back to their fourth date, when they had gotten shore leave for a couple of hours and had gone to a diner that looked like it came straight out of Maria’s childhood, complete with bratwurst and barbeque and the nostalgia had hit Maria like a truck as she was reminded of growing up in the Midwest.

The best part, however, was the root beer, and Maria remembers explaining her excitement about a sugary beverage to a bewildered but amused Natasha.

_ (“It’s so sweet, Maria!” _

_ “Yeah, but it just reminds me of so much.” _

“ _ Like?” _

_ “There was this biking trail really close to my house, and I would sneak out in the afternoons during the weekend and, well, go biking, and sometimes on the way back I would stop at this little restaurant and just buy a root beer and sip it with sweat dripping down my face while sitting on a picnic table. The bubbles were my favorite part, you know.”) _

And to this day, she still remembers the feeling; the sun beating down on her sweat-covered face, her beat-up bike lying on the gravel as the cold sugary liquid coasts over her tongue, a soft breeze lightly blowing her hair as she sits on a worn picnic table, her feet resting on the bench.

“Thank you,” Maria says, as she takes a sip of the root beer, enjoying the fizz on her tongue just like she has done so many times before, leaning back in her office chair.

“Of course,” Natasha responds, smiling at her and they just stare into each other’s eyes for a moment and Maria’s reminded of why she loves the woman sitting across from her so fucking much; it’s because of moments like these, where they don’t even need to say anything to communicate their love for one another. 

“You know, I still think it’s too sweet,” Natasha suddenly says, slightly smirking.

Maria snorts as she swirls her chair around (what can she say? the bubbles make her feel giddy), stopping herself to face Natasha again. “Maybe so,” Maria admits, her tone light as she takes another swig, “but I like the bubbles.”

Natasha gently shakes her head, grinning at Maria’s joyous mood and happiness and for a moment, the outer world fades away for the both of them because all that matters in the moment is held in a glass bottle, bubbling and sparkling just as everything should be. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Minutiae- n. the small, precise, or trivial details of something.”  
> Day 22 of Aureate August 2018

**Prompt:**  Minutiae

**Word Count:** 609

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

“-and as you can see here, there is an entrance on…”

Natasha stands in the back, watches as Hill dictates the plan to a room of thirty-some agents, all huddled around the conference table like it’s some standard office meeting. And technically, it could be, except this meeting is about a  _ massive  _ HYDRA base that they need to take down, not the business’ monthly earnings.

She just  _ really  _ wishes Maria hadn’t chosen a fucking  _ Powerpoint  _ to convey all the details.

And since it’s Maria Hill, the assistant director that plans every single trivial step, there are a  _ lot  _ of details to go through. So far, Hill’s on slide number fifty-seven and she’s showing no signs of stopping, and Natasha internally sighs as Maria moves on to another slide filled with a map and some more bullet points.

“-Team Delta, you enter through here…”

Natasha lets out a little sigh and by Hill’s pointed glare, she can tell Maria heard it.

“Something to say, Agent Romanoff?” Hill asks her and Natasha can feel thirty pairs of eyes turn to her, but all she can focus on is the intensity of Hill’s stare and she smirks.

“Nope,” Natasha fires back, adding Hill’s title after a moment just to spite her, “Assistant Director Hill.”

Hill glares at her for a moment more before turning her attention back to the projected slideshow, explaining every aspect as she slowly moves from slide to slide. It’s forty-one minutes later when Hill decides to wrap things up, dismissing the agents efficiently with a nod and a vote of encouragement: “Let’s not fuck this one up, agents.” 

There are some murmurs as people walk out of the doo and Natasha joins them, waiting at the back of the line before Hill says one last thing.

“Agent Romanoff, may I see you, please?”

Natasha whips her head around, noticing a hint of amusement in Hill’s cold stare as she walks towards the Maria, who’s still standing at the head of the room.

“Yes?” Natasha says, letting her trademark smirk out as she stares into Maria’s eyes.

“Just because Fury likes you doesn’t mean I have to, Romanoff,” Maria says, her tone cold, professional. “He may show leniency, but I will not tolerate what I just saw today.”

“Yessir,” Natasha replies quickly, giving Hill a mock salute, watching as Maria crosses her arms. Hill glares at her for a moment more before saying “dismissed,” and Natasha exits the room soon after, looking back just once.

\---

Hours later, Natasha’s lying in Maria’s bed, Maria half-naked beside her, her arm draped over Natasha’s side, her other arm lying beneath Natasha. She can feel Maria’s nose against her head, slightly messing up her hair but really, Natasha doesn’t mind.

(Natasha would never admit to being someone’s little spoon but that’s exactly what’s happening now, and she kind of likes it.)

“Do you think we put on a good enough performance?” Maria murmurs into Natasha’s hair, and Natasha can slightly feel the breath brush across her skin.

“Yeah,” Natasha replies drowsily, her eyes half closed as she grabs onto Maria’s hand, intertwining her fingers with the commander’s, “hopefully Fury’ll fall for it.”

“Who are we kidding? He probably already knows,” Maria mumbles, rustling slightly and then Natasha can feel Maria’s lips pressed against the back of her head, lasting just for a second before Maria pulls away.

“He hasn’t said anything yet, so it’s good enough for me,” Natasha murmurs. She hears Maria chuckle slightly as her eyes drift shut, and the last thing she can register is this rising feeling in her chest, something resembling  _ content _ .

And this, truly,  _ is  _ good enough.


	19. Anodyne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Anodyne- n. a painkilling drug or medicine.”  
> Day 23 of Aureate August 2018. pickup line source: pickup-lines.net 
> 
> also don’t do drugs kids

**Prompt:** “Anodyne- n.  a painkilling drug or medicine.”

**Word Count:** 542

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

 

Natasha knocks on the metal doorframe of the hospital room, alerting Maria to her presence. Apparently Hill had been stupid and gotten herself shot on a mission, and then broke some bones just for good measure. Natasha thought she’d pay the agent a visit, probably because she’s the closest thing Hill’s got to a friend.

Their relationship isn’t something Natasha likes to spend time attempting to define: Maria likes calling them “fuck buddies” but sometimes, when Natasha’s lying naked next to Maria, she’ll grab onto Maria’s hand and gently run her thumb over Maria’s skin, or Maria will lean over and peck Natasha square on the lips.

Either way, they have a “thing,” and Natasha prefers to leave it at that. 

“Hi,” Natasha says curtly, watching as Maria’s eyes struggle to focus on hers.

“Hey,” Maria slurs and Natasha almost takes a step backwards as she watches Hill  _ smile _ ; a big, dopey, probably drug-induced kind.

Maria Hill doesn’t  _ smile _ . But obviously, the woman lying on the hospital bed in front of her isn’t really Hard-Ass Hill, instead, it’s Maria Hill doped up on some  _ really  _ strong painkillers. And it seems as though the drugs are impacting Maria’s self-regulation because as Natasha steps into the room, she notices Maria’s eyes focus on her chest, running down her body to the curve of her ass.

“Holy shit, Hill. They got you on the good stuff, don’t they?” Natasha asks, amusement trickling into her tone as she shuts the door behind her.

“Forgive me for staring,” Maria slurs, still shamelessly eyeing Natasha, “but I’ve got a nice view. That body suit is awesome, I have to say.”

“That line ever work for you before?” Natasha prods, sitting down on the plastic chair next to the hospital bed. She decides right then and there that she likes this version of Maria; uncensored, frank, and hilariously inappropriate.  

“Eh,” Maria dismisses, sloppily waving her right hand in the air, her left restricted by a cast, “doesn’t matter. I’ve got others.”

Natasha cocks up an eyebrow at Hill’s admission (she  _ really  _ should be filming this. Clint would get a kick out of it), smirking casually as she leans against the plastic back of the chair.

“Oh? Care to share?”

Maria’s head turns and Natasha can see Maria’s eyebrows slightly furrowing in concentration and the expression is almost  _ cute _ . 

“If you were a flower, you’d be a damnnndelion,” Maria suddenly says, and Natasha suppresses a laugh at how  _ bad  _ the line is. 

“What? Don’t laugh, it’s such a good line!” Maria retorts, sounding petulant.

“Do I even want to know any of the others?” Natasha asks, slightly grinning at Maria’s half-open eyes and large smile.

“I’ll think of some more later,” Maria replies, sounding drowsy, and then suddenly her right hand has grabbed onto Natasha’s left.

“M’glad you came,” Maria mumbles, her eyes fluttering slightly and Natasha can see she’s about to drift off into a drug-induced sleep. She watches as Maria’s breathing evens out, her eyelids shut, a peaceful and, dare she say,  _ content  _ expression on her face.

“I am too,” Natasha whispers back, even though she knows Maria can’t hear it.

And Natasha just sits there, still holding Maria’s hand, the heartbeat monitor beeping rhythmically in the background.    


	20. Epitaph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Epitaph- n. a phrase or statement written in memory of a person who has died, especially as an inscription on a tombstone.”  
> Day 24 of Aureate August 2018. i regret nothing.

**Prompt:** “Epitaph- n.  a phrase or statement written in memory of a person who has died, especially as an inscription on a tombstone.”

**Word Count:** 888

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** Death

**A/N:** Day 24 of Aureate August 2018. i regret nothing.

* * *

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It isn’t supposed to be this way.

_ They quietly sneak around the perimeter of the building, Maria’s footsteps almost silent as she crouches in front of Natasha, her gun out in front of her in a cop-like fashion. Natasha had grudgingly let Maria lead after a somewhat heated argument on the Quinjet ride here, just because she knew Maria wouldn’t have it any other way. _

_ The mission is simple; information extraction from another HYDRA base and based on their intel, a lightly guarded one at that. Why Maria was joining her, Natasha didn’t know, but apparently Maria had been feeling restless lately, and Clint was on leave.  _

_ Leave it to a SHIELD agent to go on a mission “for fun.” Adrenaline junkies, the lot of them. _

_ Natasha stares ahead as they reach the entrance of the compound, two guards standing at the entrance. They’re unconscious within seconds as they work together, Natasha taking left, Maria taking right, and it feels natural, the two of them working together as smoothly as she would with Clint. _

_ The moment Natasha steps into the building, however, she can feel something is off. Her senses heighten even further as Maria steps in front of her, taking the lead again as they slink through the dark building. _

_ That’s when it hits her. _

_ If it’s a guarded building, there should be guards both inside and out, and the compound should  _ definitely  _ not be dark. Natasha berates herself for her own foolishness, knowing that Maria here has made her less attentive than she normally is. _

Maria never should’ve been there in the first place, Natasha thinks, as she looks down at the ground, relying on crutches to stand.

_ “Shit,” Natasha curses, looking around. She sees Maria walk into the hallway in front of her, but before Natasha can stop her there’s a blind flash of light and a loud boom, and Natasha’s blown back. _

_ When the rubble clears, there’s a figure lying on the ground and Natasha dashes over because all she can process is Maria, Maria, Maria. Natasha can see that her eyes are closed and for the brief moment that she thinks of the worst-case scenario, she considers lying on the ground with Maria, just so that she can feel her girlfriend’s warmth, clutch onto her just so that they can die here, in rubble and destruction, but at least they’ll have each other.  _

_ She shoves the thought aside as she reaches to take Maria’s pulse, and her heart relaxes a little just because she can feel it; a beat that’s fast-paced and loud. Natasha scans over the rest of Maria’s body, checking for injuries and finding none too severe, the worst some shrapnel embedded in Maria’s skin. _

_ Natasha watches as Maria’s eyes flutter open and she barely has time to drag her up from the floor before she hears footsteps and the sound of gunshots. Maria stumbles as Natasha clutches onto her arm, forcing them to run, bullets whizzing after them. _

_ She hears a little gasp from Maria and there’s another stumble, and Natasha curses as they dash outside, guns still blazing behind them, her hands wet, covered in Maria’s blood. _

There’s a sharp gust of wind in the chilly fall air, but Natasha can think of is the feeling of the blood on her hands.

_ They make it past the outer perimeter and stop as soon as Natasha thinks they’re in the clear, Natasha letting Maria sink onto the ground with a small  _ thump,  _ ignoring the sharp pain in her calf _ .  _ Even in the night, Natasha can see that Maria’s suit is soaked with blood, the crimson liquid darkening the fabric. _

_ “Where?” Natasha asks hurriedly, quickly pulling out a knife and cutting off portions of her suit. _

_ “Shoulder,” Maria replies breathlessly, “thigh. Stomach.” _

_ Natasha rapidly finds the wounds and wraps the cloth around, attempting to keep pressure on the wounds. “Dammit Maria,” Natasha curses, “we’ll get through this, okay?” _

_ The moon slightly reflects into Maria’s clear blue eyes and Natasha can see that they are moving around hurriedly, her gaze unfocused, but this can’t be the end. Not just yet. _

_ “Stay with me,” Natasha pleads, letting the desperation seep into her tone, “please.” _

_ Maria’s eyes are half-closed now, her face pale as she slightly shifts her head on the ground. “I,” her breathing is short, labored, “love you.” _

_ And Natasha chokes back a sob as she watches the life seep out of Maria’ face, her clear blue eyes fluttering shut for the last time. _

“Maria Robin Hill,” Natasha reads in her head, the words carved into a simple granite stone embedded in the ground. 

“April 4th, 1982 - September 30th, 2004

May she rest in peace”

There’s nothing more to be added because Natasha knows Maria wouldn’t want anything extra, but it’s Maria that’s buried six feet under while Natasha stands above, clutching onto a crutch, alive and breathing and absolutely lost.

And the tears finally fall as Natasha lets herself sink down onto her cast and knees, the stone grows dark in the places where her tears drop. She runs her pointer finger through the engravings, tracing and retracing the inscription over and over again, as if it could bring Maria back.  __ __

But she’s gone and there’s nothing left, only words written on a slab of stone.


	21. lost. (pt. 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of “lost” (part 1: Chapter 9, part 2: Chapter 13)   
> “Lacuna- n. a blank space or a missing part,” Day 26 of Aureate August 2018

**Prompt:** Lacuna

**Word Count:** 788

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Maria awakes the next morning with a start, the memories of last night suddenly rushing back to her as she checks the time.  _ 9:30 am.  _ She instinctively flips her arm to the other side of the bed in hopes that it’s still warm; maybe, hopefully, she hasn’t scared Natasha away just yet.

The sheets are cool to the touch and there’s a sinking feeling in Maria’s stomach coupled by the ever-present anxiety that she’s fucked something up again and she hates that she’s like this.

Anxious. Uptight. Empty.

She suddenly hears a knock on her bedroom door before it slightly cracks open and there’s a familiar flash of red.

“May I come in?” Natasha asks, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Maria nods drowsily before realizing that Natasha probably can’t see her. “Yeah, come in” Maria replies, her voice hoarse and scratchy from sleep, and maybe something else.

Natasha walks in, slightly limping, her left leg apparently newly bandaged from the looks of it. The bandage around her hip is also new, Maria notices.

“You didn’t have to,” Maria says, slightly coughing before motioning towards Natasha’s bandages. “I could’ve helped you.”

“You didn’t need to,” Natasha replies, sitting down beside Maria, the mattress sinking slightly under the added weight. “I’m fine doing it myself.”

“Last night you weren’t,” Maria retorts before realizing how petulant she sounds; how unfair she’s being. “Sorry, I just-”

“It’s fine,” Natasha says, cutting Maria off. They sit in an awkward silence for a couple of moments, the only sound Maria can hear is the thrum of the air conditioner in the background. Maria finds herself looking down, avoiding eye contact, the sheets wrangled around her legs as she sits. Her hands are supporting her as she leans back on them and she notices that her right hand is only centimeters from Natasha’s left, for some reason.

“You know,” Natasha suddenly says, breaking the silence, “there was a reason I came to  _ your _ apartment last night.”

“Do enlighten me,” Maria replies, her tone almost defeated but still carrying a sharp edge to it.

(she doesn’t know why she’s frustrated, just that Natasha is here, sitting next to her, and it’s causing her to be more aware than she normally is. and being more aware means noticing more of the little things, which means there are more imperfections she finds. maybe that’s why. maybe it isn’t.)

“I went around, trying to find… I don’t know, pieces of myself, maybe,” Natasha responds, “and they all lead back to you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Maria questions after a moment, still processing Natasha’s words. 

“It could be either,” Natasha says. “But you proved me right by letting me in.”

“What was I supposed to do, turn you away when you’re dripping blood in the hallway?” Maria scoffs, but the look in Natasha’s eyes suggests the former agent might have thought that exact thing, and Maria can feel herself soften. “You’re always welcome here, Nat,” Maria whispers, just loudly enough so that Natasha can hear her.

It’s silent for another couple of moments as they let the words hang in the air, Maria choosing to not look too far into what she’s just admitted.

\---

Later, after they’ve had a cup of coffee and Natasha’s grudgingly let Maria help her to the couch, Maria turns on the TV to some news channel, the anchors droning about the condition of the world.

“Do you ever feel this gap inside you?” Natasha suddenly says, her voice drowning out the noise from the TV. 

Maria meets Natasha’s eyes, tearing hers from the television screen and she can detect the truth in them, the brutal honesty that comes with having the walls down.

“Yeah,” Maria admits, still looking into Natasha’s eyes as they hold eye contact for longer than what should be normal. “Yeah, I do.”

“I didn’t know how to fill it until now,” Natasha says, pausing for a moment. “And it’s you, Maria. You fill my gap.”

Natasha, for once, looks away, almost ducking her head in shame and Maria realizes something as she stares at the red hair, the side of her face, her lips.

“I think you fill my gap too.”

And Natasha turns around, her eyes striking as always, staring at Maria before she lift her right hand, cupping Maria’s left cheek with it, slightly stroking Maria’s skin with her thumb. There’s a little hesitation on both of their parts as they lean in, but then Natasha’s lips are on Maria’s, gently kissing her, with a quiet sort of passion that burns in the background.

Maria was right though. She does feel just a little more complete with Natasha in her arms.


	22. Refractory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Refractory- adj. resisting control or authority.”   
> Day 27 of Aureate August 2018
> 
> some fluff for y’all.

**Prompt:**  Refractory

**Word Count:** 595

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

“Natasha,” Maria yells from outside their bedroom, her voice slightly muffled through the door, “you have to give the sweater back eventually.”

“I don’t want to,” Natasha quickly retorts, burrowing deeper into their bed, the object in question engulfing her body. She still can’t believe she hadn’t discovered it before, having come upon the sweater one day while digging through Maria’s dresser on shore leave. Natasha had taken the navy-blue West Point sweatshirt back with her onto the Helicarrier the next day, and it had quickly become her favorite thing.

It’s not even how  _ soft  _ the goddamn thing (which it is- incredibly soft and fuzzy on the inside) or how it looks (large, welcoming, comforting) that draws Natasha to it; it’s the smell.

Specifically, Maria’s smell.

And when she wears it and bunches the too-long sleeves around her hands, wrapping her arms around her body, it’s almost like Maria’s there with her on the days when the assistant director is too busy yelling at bureaucrats to be with her in person.

She doesn’t blame Maria for her absence; there’s always a mission that needs to be completed. And since she has the sweater, she likes to think they’re even.

Natasha finds herself wearing it more and more; around the Helicarrier, around other people, around their apartment, which is how Maria found out her sweater had been, in her words, “stolen by a stubborn asshole.”

(it’s a fair assessment, Natasha will admit. she is undeniably headstrong)

“Nat!” Maria yells. “If you don’t open the goddamn door, I’m busting it down.”

Natasha knows Maria isn’t joking and she  _ really  _ doesn’t want to deal with a destroyed door in their bedroom, so she forces herself up and walks slowly to the door, the sweater still wrapped around her like a warm hug. 

And as soon as she unlocks the door, Maria shoves it open, slamming Natasha onto their bed in one quick motion, her hands grabbing the sweater. Natasha squirms underneath Maria just a little, but Maria’s weight on top of her proves a good way to keep her down, at least for the moment.

“Give it back,” Maria says, slightly gritting her teeth, her nose inches from Natasha’s face.

“No,” Natasha replies, sounding petulant. “I like it.”

“I like it too!” Maria says, her breath skimming across Natasha’s skin. “It’s my sweater!”

“Exactly! That’s why I wear it!” Natasha retorts, before realizing what she’s admitted. “It just reminds me of you, that’s all,” Natasha confesses, her voice at a lower volume than before. She watches as Maria’s facial features soften and there’s a flicker of adoration that crosses her face that slowly morphs into a small smile. Maria stares at her for a moment more before lifting herself off Natasha’s body, helping Natasha sit up with an outreached hand.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are?” Maria asks, watching Natasha with the blue sweater almost swallowing her whole body. 

“And lived?” Natasha snarks, lifting up an eyebrow. “Other than you, no.”

They descend into a comfortable silence for a while, Natasha inching towards Maria, leaning her head against Maria’s shoulder as Maria wraps an arm around Natasha, pulling her closer.

It’s a win if Natasha’s ever had one; Maria’s body warm next to hers while she gets to wrap herself inside a sweater that smells like Maria, really, her senses are just-  _ Maria _ , and it’s perfect.

“I’m never getting that sweater back, am I?” Maria suddenly asks. Natasha chuckles, turning her head slightly.

“Nope,” Natasha replies, and leans up to kiss Maria on the lips. 


	23. Xenial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Xenial- adj. hospitable, especially to visiting strangers or foreigners.”  
> Day 28 of Aureate August 2018

**Prompt:**  Xenial

**Word Count:** 623

**Rating:** T+

**Warnings:** None

* * *

 

Maria grits her teeth as she shakes the hand of yet another Important Person, hoping that she isn’t being too obvious about her dislike for this whole event. As Deputy Director of SHIELD, she knows she’s supposed to smile and play nice, except this is the part of the job she hates the most. 

A flash of red catches her eye and she knows Natasha is here, chatting up all the right people and allowing old men to stare at her for just a moment too long. A wave of possessiveness washes over and she shoves down the urge to walk over and crash her lips against Natasha’s right then and there.

Instead, Maria slowly makes her way over to Natasha, internally cursing as she’s stopped a couple of times by bureaucrats and politicians and rich people.

_ Smile. Play nice.  _

The man she’s currently talking with is dressed in an ill-fitting suit and smells like dead fish and Maria resists the urge to flip him off and march towards Natasha, but suddenly there’s someone gripping her upper arm, their body pressed up slightly against her side.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” Natasha says, putting on her most charming smile as the dead fish man finishes his current anecdote about meeting the Japanese prime minister. Maria watches as Natasha sticks her hand out good-naturedly and she’s reminded of how much  _ better _ Natasha is at this than she is. 

“Natasha Romanoff,” the agent says, shaking the man’s hand and Maria sees his eyes linger far too long on her chest, raking his eyes down Natasha’s body and now, she just really wants to strangle him.      

After ten minutes of war anecdotes, Maria finally seizes an opening and excuses the two of them. They mingle through the crowd together, Natasha pressed into her side, Maria gently guiding her through the crowd with a hand on the small of Natasha’s back. Maria doesn’t know how many more people they talk to, but somehow they make it through, slipping into the bathroom together.

It’s one of those individual bathrooms and Maria locks the door behind them, watching as Natasha leans over the sink casually. Maria presses her back against the door and waits for Natasha to finish reapplying her lipstick, crossing her arms. 

“You’re very good at this,” Maria remarks after Natasha’s turned back to face her.

“At what?” Natasha asks, her voice low and inquisitive and husky all at the same time.

“Doing the whole,” Maria motions around, “talking-to-people-playing-nice type thing. Better than I am, at least.”

“Makes you wonder why they didn’t give the job to me,” Natasha retorts, slightly amused, raising an eyebrow before walking closer towards Maria.

“Probably because you don’t want it,” Maria points out and Natasha shrugs.

“You have a good point.”

“Don’t I always?” Maria fires back quickly, slightly smirking as Natasha walks up to her, her nose inches from Maria’s.

“Of course,” Natasha whispers, standing on her toes to reach Maria’s ear and the huskiness of Natasha’s voice sends a tingle down Maria’s spine, heat pooling in her core. She can feel Natasha’s hands grab the lapels of her suit, pulling Maria closer to her lips.

Natasha plants a chaste kiss on Maria’s lips, lingering for just a moment before pulling back and straightening her dress out.

“We’ll continue this later?” Natasha asks, her eyes piercing Maria’s soul.

“Sure,” Maria replies, trying to keep her tone even but the heat in her core is still there, burning like a forest fire. Natasha walks out of the bathroom first and Maria waits five minutes before following.

She falls back into the routine of smiling and shaking hands but really, her mind is somewhere else, focused on a certain red-haired agent. 


	24. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Epilogue- n. a concluding section that rounds out the design of a literary work.”  
> Day 31 of Aureate August 2018
> 
> aka tooth rotting fluff. also, what is this the epilogue to? you might ask.  
> my answer: i don't know. anything. everything. whatever you want it to be. it's just a happy ending, because that's what they deserve.

**Prompt:** “Epilogue- n. a concluding section that rounds out the design of a literary work.”

**Word Count:** 728

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None

**A/N:** Day 31 of Aureate August 2018. involves tooth-rotting fluff.

* * *

 

 

“Hey,” Maria says one day while they’re lounging on the couch, legs entwined and watching Sherlock, “do you want to get married?”

Natasha takes the time to turn her head, her mouth slightly agape as she stares at Maria.

“What?”

Maria meets Natasha’s eyes, releasing her grip on Natasha’s hand to motion around. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to get married.”

A beat.

“What?”

“The whole get-rings-say-vows thing?” Maria replies, slightly tilting her head. She’s met with no response as Natasha continues to stare at her with some sort of confused expression. “You know, it’s a thing that people do when they love each other? Do they not do marriage in Russia?”

“No- they do,” Natasha finally says, still staring at Maria, “get married, I mean. In Russia.”

Natasha furrows her eyebrows for a second, probably attempting to focus, and Maria’s hit with a wave of adoration or love or a mix of both.

“Married? Us?” Natasha asks after a moment.

“Why not?” Maria responds, lowering her hand to grip onto Natasha’s. “We’ve been together for what, five years?”

“Six and a half,” Natasha corrects automatically, and Maria gives her a weird look in response. “What? I like to keep track of these things.”

“Well, we’ve been through a lot together, right?” Maria continues, thinking back to the numerous amount of times they’ve both gotten back to the Helicarrier injured, blood seeping into their suits. “And I think we’ve firmly established that this is a stable relationship, so why not get married? I mean, it’s just a slip of paper.”

“Declaring us wife-and-wife,” Natasha replies, cocking up an eyebrow and pausing for a moment. “That does have a nice ring to it, I’ll admit.”

“Just- think about it,” Maria says.

They turn their attention back to Sherlock playing the violin, their legs and fibers entwined on the sofa.

—-

It’s two days later when Natasha comes back to their apartment carrying groceries, dumping them on the counter before turning her attention to Maria.

“Yes,” Natasha says, smiling widely. “To marrying you.”

Maria grins back and closes the distance between them in two paces, planting her lips on her girlfr- no, fiancée’s lips. The groceries quickly become forgotten after that.

—-

The truth is, Natasha had been considering this idea for a while; marrying Maria. It was, admittedly, a surprise for her when Maria mentioned it first, especially since it was so casual, but Maria had made it seem like something almost- obtainable. Feasible. Possible.

The idea that the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, could get a happy ending and get the girl at the same time.

And Natasha knew she wanted the happy ending, because the thought of spending the rest of her life with Maria made her feel content inside, even if it was only a slip of paper that made all the difference.

Their wedding isn’t really even a wedding; instead, it’s just a small gathering with Clint, Steve, Sharon, Fury, and Phil outside the steps of the city hall. Natasha’s wearing a knee-length white dress and Maria’s wearing an old, navy blue tuxedo she dug out from the back of their closet a week before the set date.

“I do,” Natasha says, clutching onto Maria’s fingers because there’s still a part of her that thinks this is too good to be true.

“I do,” Maria replies, grinning back.

Their rings are simple; two gold bands with no embellishments because what they have together is too great to be expressed physically and there are loving expressions on their faces as they each put the ring on each other’s fingers. Maria grabs onto Natasha’s hands, giving them a squeeze, and they lean in to kiss each other at the exact same moment, almost as if they’re bound by an invisible string.

There’s a small round of applause as they kiss; Fury’s almost smiling, Clint’s unapologetically wiping tears from his eyes, and Phil has a rare grin spread wide on his face.

“I love you,” Natasha says to Maria, later when they’re lying naked on their bed, sheets rumpled on the floor.

“I love you too,” Maria responds, leaning over to press a kiss on Natasha’s cheek, but Natasha turns her head at the last moment and catches Maria’s lips with hers.

—-

In the end, they both get their happy ending.

And truly, it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that concludes Aureat August 2018! it's been a hell of a month, guys. this is the first writing challenge that i've participated in and writing daily for a month.. oh man. t'was a challenge (i guess it's called a challenge for a reason, right?)  
> i'm both estatic and depressed to stop this writing daily thing, so we'll just leave it at that.
> 
> shoutout to the people who have left kudos, commented, and/or bookmarked this work! y'all are awesome <3
> 
> okay imma sleep now.


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